The Valets Tragedy | Page 7

dared to speak, even to him,
Saint-Mars. He has mentioned this prisoner, he says, to no mortal.
People believe that Dauger is a Marshal of France, so strange and
unusual are the precautions taken for his security.
A Marshal of France! The legend has begun. At this time (1669)
Saint-Mars had in charge Fouquet, the great fallen Minister, the richest
and most dangerous subject of Louis XIV. By-and-by he also held
Lauzun, the adventurous wooer of la Grande Mademoiselle. But it was
not they, it was the valet, Dauger, who caused 'sensation.'
On February 20,1672, Saint-Mars, for the sake of economy wished to
use Dauger as valet to Lauzun. This proves that Saint-Mars did not,
after all, see the necessity of secluding Dauger, or thought the King's
fears groundless. In the opinion of Saint-Mars, Dauger did not want to
be released, 'would never ask to be set free.' Then why was he so
anxiously guarded? Louvois refused to let Dauger be put with Lauzun
as valet. In 1675, however, he allowed Dauger to act as valet to
Fouquet, but with Lauzun, said Louvois, Dauger must have no
intercourse. Fouquet had then another prisoner valet, La Riviere. This
man had apparently been accused of no crime. He was of a melancholy
character, and a dropsical habit of body: Fouquet had amused himself
by doctoring him and teaching him to read.

In the month of December 1678, Saint-Mars, the commandant of the
prison, brought to Fouquet a sealed letter from Louvois, the seal
unbroken. His own reply was also to be sealed, and not to be seen by
Saint-Mars. Louvois wrote that the King wished to know one thing,
before giving Fouquet ampler liberty. Had his valet, Eustache Dauger,
told his other valet, La Riviere, what he had done before coming to
Pignerol? (de ce a quoi il a ete employe auparavant que d'etre a
Pignerol). 'His Majesty bids me ask you [Fouquet] this question, and
expects that you will answer without considering anything but the truth,
that he may know what measures to take,' these depending on whether
Dauger has, or has not, told La Riviere the story of his past life.*
Moreover, Lauzun was never, said Louvois, to be allowed to enter
Fouquet's room when Dauger was present. The humorous point is that,
thanks to a hole dug in the wall between his room and Fouquet's,
Lauzun saw Dauger whenever he pleased.
*Lair, Nicholas Foucquet, ii. pp. 463, 464.
From the letter of Louvois to Fouquet, about Dauger (December 23,
1678), it is plain that Louis XIV. had no more pressing anxiety, nine
years after Dauger's arrest, than to conceal WHAT IT WAS THAT
DAUGER HAD DONE. It is apparent that Saint-Mars himself either
was unacquainted with this secret, or was supposed by Louvois and the
King to be unaware of it. He had been ordered never to allow Dauger to
tell him: he was not allowed to see the letters on the subject between
Louvois and Fouquet. We still do not know, and never shall know,
whether Dauger himself knew his own secret, or whether (as he had
anticipated) he was locked up for not divulging what he did not know.
The answer of Fouquet to Louvois must have satisfied Louis that
Dauger had not imparted his secret to the other valet, La Riviere, for
Fouquet was now allowed a great deal of liberty. In 1679, he might see
his family, the officers of the garrison, and Lauzun--it being provided
that Lauzun and Dauger should never meet. In March 1680, Fouquet
died, and henceforth the two valets were most rigorously guarded;
Dauger, because he was supposed to know something; La Riviere,
because Dauger might have imparted the real or fancied secret to him.

We shall return to these poor serving- men, but here it is necessary to
state that, ten months before the death of their master, Fouquet, an
important new captive had been brought to the prison of Pignerol.
This captive was the other candidate for the honours of the Mask,
Count Mattioli, the secretary of the Duke of Mantua. He was kidnapped
on Italian soil on May 2, 1679, and hurried to the mountain fortress of
Pignerol, then on French ground. His offence was the betraying of the
secret negotiations for the cession of the town and fortress of Casal, by
the Duke of Mantua, to Louis XIV. The disappearance of Mattioli was,
of course, known to the world. The cause of his enlevement, and the
place of his captivity, Pignerol, were matters of newspaper comment at
least as early as 1687. Still earlier, in 1682, the story of Mattioli's arrest
and seclusion in Pignerol had been published in a work named 'La
Prudenza Trionfante di Casale.'* There was thus no mystery, at the
time, about Mattioli; his crime